


21 years howled

by cryromantic



Series: Fictober/Kinktober 2020 [4]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, First Relationship, Hand Jobs, Insecurity, M/M, Making Out, ashe is a werewolf and werewolves have knots i cannot change this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:01:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26937055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cryromantic/pseuds/cryromantic
Summary: Ashe is a werewolf, Caspar is his human boyfriend. They have an eventful morning.“Huh!?” he asked, intelligently. Rather than the expected look of disgust and betrayal, Caspar was marveling at Ashe’s crotch as if he had found something precious and admirable. All at once, the tension left Ashe’s body as Caspar laughed so loudly he surely would wake the rest of Ashe's pack.“I think it’s the biggest I’ve seen!” Caspar exclaimed. The grin on his face fell, replaced by a pout as he glanced off to the side. “Not that I’ve seen a lot…”
Relationships: Caspar von Bergliez/Ashe Duran | Ashe Ubert
Series: Fictober/Kinktober 2020 [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1948111
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12





	21 years howled

**Author's Note:**

> cw Ashe has a knot

The sun rose, lifting above the faraway skyline of the city, and the beast that lived beneath his skin was calm. Ashe always felt anxious at night regardless of if the moon were full. He sighed, drawing his knees to his chest, and rested his chin in his arms. The morning light had made its way to his roof, kissing his skin with pinkish-orange warmth. He was alone up here—the rest of his pack were resting or away—his only company the loud buzzing of a nearby a.c. unit. A distinctly human-made sound.

He came up here to meditate, he supposed. Ashe had a thing for distinguishing between all the stimuli that surrounded him. It helped him cope with the constant nagging of the wolf the lurked within. Ashe closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

He sensed the usual things: the morning dew, the bakery down the street, and the cat that skulked around in the alley below. These things told Ashe he was home. He made it through another night without incident. He was safe, tucked away in the tiny rooftop garden of the unassuming apartment building his pack had claimed.

New scents and sounds broke through his comfortable haze. Motor oil, artificial citrusy-soap, and heavy boots stomping around on uneven flooring.

Caspar was on his way up; he always walked with heavy, purposeful steps and Ashe could pick out his gait from miles away. Ashe tilted his head, counting the steps Casar took as he bounded up the stairs that lead to the roof access. Of course, a person didn’t need super-human hearing to notice the way Caspar moved.

The door slammed open and Ashe’s peaceful sunrise was replaced by rambunctious chatter. He didn’t mind though. He rested his chin in his palm, listening with rapt attention as Caspar rambled on about his morning. Ashe nodded and offered the appropriate monosyllabic answers during the scant few pauses Caspar made. 

Caspar finished his exciting tale, plopping down in front of Ashe like a sack of rocks. Laughter bubbled up through Ashe’s chest as Caspar weaseled between his knees and into his arms. He ran his fingers through the soft hair that tickled Caspar’s neck.

“Good morning,” he whispered as he gazed into beautiful, bright blue eyes.

For one minuscule moment, it was quiet. Then Caspar grinned, his (beautiful, bright blue!) eyes were shiny with mischief and—as with all aspects of his life—he barreled onward. 

“Mornin’,” he chimed, “have you howled at the moon lately? Swore I heard something a little  _ wolfy  _ last night.” Caspar had only just managed to spit the question out before his shoulders began to shake with amusement.

Honestly, it was a miracle Caspar didn’t dump Ashe the moment he confessed his secret. He supposed a potential lifetime of bad jokes was better than the heartbreak of losing one of the few people outside the pack he cared deeply for. Still, that didn’t mean Ashe had to take it.

He twisted his lips and squashed Caspar’s cheeks with his hands, ignoring the indignant cry that slipped from Caspar’s mouth.

“It must have been the pomeranian who lives below you.” Ashe let go of Caspar’s face and made a show of looking left then right before leaning in close. The white puffs of their breaths indistinguishable from each other. “I told her to look after you for me, you know?”

The look of deep concentration on Caspar’s face was too much, Ashe’s chest fluttered at the sight of it. 

“Wait really?” Caspar finally asked, brows furrowed.

“Do you think if I could talk to dogs, I wouldn’t do it all the time?” 

“Ugh, that would have been so cool,” Caspar whined. His shoulders sagged and Ashe snorted, rubbing behind his ears in apology. 

Eventually, Caspar relaxed and Ashe looped his arms around his neck to tug him close. He went, crawling forward until his chest bumped against Ashe’s. His usual smile—or at least the one reserved for Ashe—was back. “We gonna keep talkin’ or are you gonna kiss me?”

Their lips met, soft and slow and sweet; the wonderful myriad of things that made up Caspar slowly filled up the reservoir of Ashe's being. It was the lingering smell of the garage Caspar worked in, the feel of his chapped lips, and his quiet sounds of contentment. Ashe sighed, letting Caspar work his mouth open with an eager tongue. Their kisses turned intensive and sloppy. Drool settled wet and warm and Ashe’s chin.

Not a single space in his willing mouth was left unexplored and it occurred to Ashe that Caspar was horrendous at kissing. Ashe’s jaw began to ache, but he enjoyed the intimacy of their haphazard makeout too much to end it. Caspar pushed and Ashe ended up with his back against the floor. Their bodies pressed tight together and Ashe groaned at the pleasant weight of his boyfriend atop him. They fit each other like two puzzle pieces.

Like those pieces that clearly didn’t fit, but were jammed together anyway.

The beast inside stirred and Ashe shuddered. His entire body thrummed with a delightful buzz. Their kisses stopped and Ashe looked dazedly up at Caspar. His lips were shiny with spit and a brighter red than usual. Had that been Ashe’s doing? Caspar leaned his weight on one arm and swiped his mouth with the sleeve of his hoodie. Ashe thought he could see a blush begin to form high on his boyfriend’s cheeks and Ashe wondered if he matched.

“You’re hard,” Caspar said, suddenly, with a huge grin plastered on his face.

Ashe froze.

Or, more accurately, his soul left his body in a fit of embarrassment leaving his worthless flesh behind. Ashe opened and closed his mouth, waiting for words to come. Caspar sat up, straddling Ashe’s hips and—oh. 

There it was. 

It was the barest of friction, but Ashe still bit his lip as a tingling sensation traveled from his crotch to his navel. He breathed in deep and noticed a scent he had never smelled before coming from Caspar, but he didn’t possess the fortitude to investigate at that moment. 

“Sorry,” grimaced Ashe, he balled his hands into fists at his sides. “I. Uh—”

“Can I see it?” asked Caspar, completely ignoring Ashe’s plight. Rather, he added fuel to the fire that was brewing below.

He nodded dumbly. Ashe should have said no. It would go away on its own, they always did. Caspar wouldn’t be upset. 

Ashe dug his fingers into the dusty rooftop, barely registering Caspar’s excited yell of glee. He was nervous. A little scared, even, for Caspar to see what awaited him once he opened Ashe’s jeans. His dick still twitched traitorously against his thigh.

Caspar made short work of Ashe’s button and fly. The zipper was deafening. A horrendous feeling of finality burned in his chest. Ashe closed his eyes. If he couldn’t see the disgust on his boyfriend’s face, it would be like it never happened.

He could go on living, knowing he never saw the exact moment Caspar decided to leave him and his bizarre wolfish problems behind.

Ashe gasped as the cool morning air hit his heated dick. Caspar had pulled him out already.

“Ashe…”

Caspar was miles away. Ashe whined. Oh, this was the worst. His mouth fell open though no sound came out. What if he pushed Caspar away? Pulled up his jeans and ran for the sanctity of his room? That was his only course action. He would apologize to Caspar and and and—that would be it. The man he so admired for so long as a teenager-turned young adult would be out of his life, but Caspar wouldn’t be with a complete and total weirdo.

“Ashe, you’re so big!” Caspar’s voice cut through every insecurity Ashe had, leaving him nothing but a confused mess.

His eyes snapped open and he forced himself to look down. The scene before him twisting his guts up worse than when he asked Caspar out.

“Huh!?” he asked, intelligently. Rather than the expected look of disgust and betrayal, Caspar was marveling at Ashe’s crotch as if he had found something precious and admirable. All at once, the tension left Ashe’s body as Caspar laughed so loudly he surely would wake the rest of Ashe's pack. 

“I think it’s the biggest I’ve seen!” Caspar exclaimed. The grin on his face fell, replaced by a pout as he glanced off to the side. “Not that I’ve seen a lot…”

Guilt broiled in Ashe’s stomach. He should be ashamed that he even entertained the idea of Caspar being so shallow that something like this would turn him away. He must have still been locked in a daze because Caspar had gently nudged his hip and asked if he was alright.

“Y-yes,” Ashe stammered. He sat up, leaning on his elbows. “I just… Doesn’t it look weird to you?”

“What?” asked Caspar, his head tilted curiously.

Heat rushed to Ashe’s face—which must have been a nice break for his dick, in all honesty. “My—Caspar, you  _ know _ what!”

In a sequence that Ashe dearly wished to be scrubbed from his memory, Caspar: looked down at Ashe’s dick, back up to Ashe’s face, and back down again. Several times. Finally, he asked, "That little bumpy thing?"

Ashe had never felt so exposed—and the fact that his half-hard erection was on full display had very little to do with it. 

“Caspar,” he started, breathing deep and wishing they could be anywhere but next to his poor, innocent plants. "Don't you think it's weird?"

One of Caspar’s brows raised so high, Ashe thought it might lift right off his face. “Uh. Did you want me to call you names?"

The sudden stillness of their little corner of the world made Ashe want to dig a hole and die in it. His face was so hot, he wondered if he might actually cry. Caspar’s eyes were so round and confused that Ashe could hardly bear to look at them. He wasn’t sure if he was more relieved or mortified when the silence was broken.

“What is it anyway?" Caspar asked. A look of sudden horror flitted over his features. "It's not a tumor?!"

Ashe exhaled so sharply, the beginnings of a growl brewed within his chest. “ _ No, _ it’s not a tumor!"

Caspar grew quiet. Just as Ashe was about to apologize for being rude, his boyfriend piped up again. "Oh, it's like those big pimples that lady online pops!"

The fact that his dick still laid somewhat hard against his stomach told Ashe that the beast in him had no standards. "That's not it either," he monotoned. Ashe took a deep breath. "It's just… there."

“Huh,” Caspar said, head tilted to the side. “Can I touch it?”

“It’s a kno—what?!”

“It’s a no?”

“No! I mean—yes.” Ashe blew out a breath. “It’s just. It’s a werewolf thing.”

Caspar nodded. “Soo, can I touch it?”

They had yet to go beyond pawing at each other over their clothes; the idea of Caspar touching him, skin to skin, hit Ashe with an unexpected flash of desire. He swallowed thickly and nodded.

This time, Ashe watched as Caspar reached for him. He shivered at the first contact of Caspar’s cold fingers against his sensitive skin. The exploration was surprisingly slow and gentle. Every inch of him was touched with each one of Caspar's fingers. Ashe felt like he was floating. He grew even harder under the attention. Ashe gasped loud when Caspar formed a loose fist around his dick.

One, two, three slow pumps. "Caspar," moaned Ashe, squeezing his eyes shut. "Harder.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Caspar answered, but his grip tightened as he continued the steady movement of his hand.

A rumbling that started deep in his chest forced its way out; it tore through his throat, a serrated knife’s edge against his esophagus. He  _ growled, _ low and long, as his more untamed self awoke to the stimulation Caspar so freely offered.  _ More.  _

_ More. _

“Is it supposed to do that?!” Caspar exclaimed, astonished. 

Ashe had started to swell. He felt like sobbing. Whether from embarrassment at his unique predicament or from the all-new bodily sensations Caspar so freely offered, he wasn’t sure. His hips moved erratically, his muscles forcing him to rut into Caspar’s hand. 

“C-Cas,” panted Ashe, cracking an eye open. Caspar was flush with color, the excitement and wonder plain on his face. “I-I need—Can you—”

Infuriatingly, Caspar’s movements slowed as he leaned closer to Ashe. “Oh? Uh, tell me… what you need?”

Only the love in his heart kept Ashe from reaching out and shaking sense into his boyfriend. He grits his teeth, focusing on the heady scent emanating from Caspar. It calmed him somehow. Ashe closed his eyes, breathing slow, and wondered if Caspar would let him explore the scent more closely. 

He shuddered as Caspar clumsily thumbed at his slit. “Squeeze it— _ please.” _

“Ohhh!” Caspar said, as realization finally dawned on him. At least, Ashe desperately hoped it was a realization. “Y-yeah. Totally! Okay.”

There was no grand build-up or worship of it. Caspar simply did as told, reaching down to grip Ashe at the base. His vision went blurry, eyes unfocused. Then Ashe came, quickly and messily over his torso. Caspar kept squeezing, and Ashe moaned. His spend coated his hoodie all wet, warm, and sticky.

So lost in his haze, Ashe didn’t notice when Caspar had let go. He only realized it when Caspar crawled over him, hands planted firmly on either side of his head. His cheeks were bright pink, his smile wide and enchanting.

“You came a lot, huh?”

“Caspar…” 

“Wanna go shower?”

Ashe stared up at him, limbs still pleasantly heavy and loose. He bit back the only question that sprang to his mind.  _ Are you okay with this? _

“Yeah,” Ashe smiled. Everything else could wait.


End file.
